and that moment of not figuring it out stretched before me. eternal was that moment.

i can't give words to the embarrassment that rushed in.

this was a thing i could do at fifteen. and now here i was, twenty-five and...inept.

okay, in all fairness, it was not a thing i did at fifteen. i was eighteen when i had my first kiss. sitting in my father's old toyota camry. next to a wonderful boy by the name of matt who i had been going to the movies with (or occasionally sharing an ice cream cone with) for over a month before he asked if he might lean in and kiss me good night. it was on the eve of our high school graduation. he was such a good guy--probably one of the best i've known, which says a lot for him, and not much for those who have since followed.

but i digress.

so there we were. each in separate chairs. leaning in, ever so innocently, pressing our lips together. and i just couldn't seem to do it. and so i became horrendously self-conscious. and let out a laugh as i said, it's been so long. i can't seem to remember how.

and he said what any guy worth his salt might say in that situation, really? i can't tell.

and of course he said that. it was the perfect thing to say. the perfect thing to calm me and (let's be honest) the perfect thing to encourage me on.

but i wanted to shout, don't do that, don't lie to me. i know that you can tell, i know that you're surprised by my...lacking or whatever this is or who-knows-what...oh hell.

so i groaned and he teased me and generously let me get away with it. (this one is, in fact, one of the good ones).

but i'm not going to lie. i'm more than a little concerned.

because this go round i didn't really figure it out. this time fear and history and the little fragments of something broken got in the way and i. didn't. figure it out.